


Masked ball

by Vault_Emblem



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Banter, Gen, M/M, Masked ball, Pre-Relationship, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:28:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28554648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vault_Emblem/pseuds/Vault_Emblem
Summary: Obi-Wan's forced to attend to a masked ball for diplomacy's sake.He'd never expect to find any familiar face in there, but fate thinks differently.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Darth Maul
Comments: 6
Kudos: 75





	Masked ball

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a gift for a friend's birthday, but then I came up with something else so meanwhile have this.

Obi-Wan isn’t fond of extravagant events - he’s a Jedi, he’s used to much simpler things - but this doesn’t mean that he has a free pass for not taking part in them.

Unfortunately diplomacy has to go through some sordid ways to be effective, and he wouldn’t be called the Negotiator if he didn’t know it.

This is why he’s ended up taking part in a masquerade ball, despite not being fond of this practice, but this is how things work in this planet, and he has to abide to them. They can’t afford to not to have some Republic presence in a planet that is famous for its underground business.

You could say that Obi-Wan plays a double role here: on one hand, he’s there to represent the Republic and charm some of the higher-ups into convincing themselves that becoming part of the systems of the Republic would be advantageous for them, on the other he has to keep an eye out for any illicit activity to report, especially if he suspects that the Separatists are behind it.

Still, to be presenting himself in this attire…

He checks himself out in the mirror again. He knows that this is how people dress here and yet… he feels so naked; this doesn’t feel as comfortable as his Jedi robes… Scratch that, this isn’t comfortable at all, though he supposes this isn’t about being comfortable and more about being fashionable, but why the two things shouldn’t go hand in hand he’ll never understand.

He has never shown this much skin in public: his midriff is left bare, along with his inner thighs, left uncovered by his pants. He can at least appreciate the artistry behind the golden ornaments that match so well with the fabric’s red, but it’s still too ostentatious for him. For some reason, however, what bothers him more is that his arms are bare; he doesn’t know why, but that’s just how he feels.

Also, if we really want to be meticulous, red isn’t exactly his color, but oh well. The tailor he got this made from said that it suited him, but Obi-Wan isn’t so sure. He’s just so _visible_ like this, like he’s walking with a big red arrow pointed at him, though he supposes that, with everyone’s dressed like this, he won’t be noticed much if he plays his cards right.

And now, for the grand finale, the mask. It’s quite picturesque, with these big red feathers on its left side, but it does its job well, covering his eyes and the lower left half of his face.

It’s as Obi-Wan get to put it on his face, securing the straps behind his hand, that he realizes that it’s supposed to have the shape of a half moon, but to be fair to him he’s been a bit too busy to examine every piece he has to wear. Well, he’s not really one for asymmetry, but there isn’t much he can do about it now.

All he needs to do now is to get to the ball, pretend he’s having a good time, keep an eye out, and then come back. Easy enough, right?

As soon as gets out of the ship, he understands immediately that this will be harder than he thought, judging by all the surprised _ohs_ he hears from the squad of troopers that has accompanied him.

“General,” Cody greets him, as formal as ever, though Obi-Wan can’t discern his exact expression since his face is covered by the helmet. Something tells him that this isn’t a coincidence.

“Commander,” he replies, trying to appear unfazed. Ah, here it is again, that feeling of being naked.

“You look… good.” Ah, this time Cody betrayed himself: even if his tone is neutral, Obi-Wan can still pick up on his amusement. To the untrained ear he sounds normal, but Obi-Wan knows he’s this close to bursting out laughing - his shoulders are slightly trembling, which only goes to confirm that theory.

He masks his embarrassment with a flat gaze.

“I do hope to come back and not find pictures of me in this attire circulating on the holonet,” he says then.

“I’ll do my best to keep the men in check,” Cody replies. It roughly translates into _no, you’re on your own_ , so Obi-Wan already resigns himself to his fate. It’s fair to let them have some kind of entertainment after all, they deserve it.

“Be safe, General.”

Obi-Wan’s gaze softens, and a smiles spreads on his lips.

“Of course.”

Not that he expects anything bad to happen during this ball, but knowing his luck he can never be prepared enough.

Besides, he’d rather not have to fight while dressed in such manner. That would certainly be a show.

He receives a warm welcome when he arrives to the site of the party, but beside from that he’s been left on his own, which he strongly prefers. Well, he’d much rather not being there at all, but sometimes diplomacy requires sacrifices, and sacrifice his comfort he will.

Despite everything, he still smiles politely and answers the questions that are thrown his way. He doesn’t shy away from anybody, even though he still keeps his distance.

His favorite companion in this “expedition” has to be the champagne stand. Not that Obi-Wan has any intention of getting drunk, because that wouldn’t be safe, but he has nothing against getting pleasantly tipsy. He wishes there was someone else with him, someone he knew already, a friendly face, but for now all he can do is to stare at his glass, pondering if he should refill it or not.

Before he can decide what to do, however, his attention is drawn to what is happening around him.

Ah, the dances are beginning.

Protocol dictates that every single participant must find a partner to dance with. No matter how little Obi-Wan wants to do this, he knows that it would be regarded as impolite if he doesn’t partake in this tradition; he could even offend all the important people from this planet, which is exactly what he needs to avoid, so… Dancing it is.

He reluctantly leaves his glass on one of the tables, mentally bidding farewell to his most trusted companion of the night. Only then he makes his way to the dance floor.

Now, he only needs to find a companion. Who could he choose? In all honestly, Obi-Wan has no idea. There are maybe two or three people he wouldn’t mind to dance with - mostly because they’d be more bearable than most of the guests - but he seems unable to find them. Maybe they already have a companion.

Still, he has to find someone, and he has to do it quickly.

Maybe it’s for the overall confusion of people and colors and thoughts, and maybe because all this is managing to distract him plenty from his surroundings, but he hasn’t noticed who he has picked as a dancing partner - he just mindlessly takes their hand and he’s still looking around - until it’s too late, until he hears a familiar voice.

“ _Hello there, Kenobi_.”

Obi-Wan’s blood freezes in his veins, and his head snaps from looking around to the person who has him in his arms. His face might be covered by an intricate lighting blue mask, but Obi-Wan would recognize those hatred-riddled yellow eyes anywhere.

“ _Maul…_ ”

Music has begun to play and it would be weird to just stand still while everyone around you isn’t, so they have no choice but to begin dancing as well, though Maul seems more amused about this than Obi-Wan. He has no idea whether this is a good sign or not.

“And what is someone like you doing in a place like this?” Maul asks, a dangerous glint in his gaze despite the grin on his face, and for a moment Obi-Wan loses himself in the sharpness of his fangs. Luckily he recovers.

“I could ask you the same,” he retorts, making Maul chuckle. Yes, he actually _chuckles_.

“Well, I happen to be here for business.”

Who does Maul think he’s fooling by acting this suave? Oh well, two can play the game: Obi-Wan wears his most charming smile, not intimidated by the other’s presence.

“What a coincidence, I’m here for business as well.”

It feels weird, talking to Maul like this, like they’re just two friends who haven’t seen each other in a while. He’s completely unprepared for this, and he has gotten himself prepared for many different outcomes. Just how was he supposed to expect something like this?

He should’ve had, thinking about it. He does have the tendency to attract trouble no matter where he goes.

What’s weirdest about this all is that it’s almost… pleasant. The music is slow enough not to be overbearing, people are keeping their distance and he’s dancing, with Maul…

He doesn’t know if he should be relieved or rather worried of the fact that he hasn’t tried to fight him yet, but he’d be foolish to assume that Maul means him no harm: he’s obviously ready to jump into action if there is going to be the need, exactly like Obi-Wan. Under their calm façades, they’re both tense; nothing some idle conversation can’t solve.

“Is your brother here as well?”

Obi-Wan didn’t mean to sound threatening, at least not explicitly so, but that must be how Maul sees it because he growls menacingly, tightening his hold on Obi-Wan’s waist.

“That’s none of your business,” he growls, and Obi-Wan’s sure that, if they were alone, he would’ve attacked him, which means that he’s interested into keeping this apparent calm farce. He can use this to his advantage--

Maul suddenly twirls them around, making Obi-Wan almost lose his footing, but he recovers splendidly. The surprised squeak that leaves his mouth, however, is less than splendid, as it is the way he bumps against Maul’s chest - must he always keep it uncovered like this? It’s indecorous and… distracting.

“Careful,” Maul warns him, suppressing the smirk on his face right before Obi-Wan raises his gaze towards him. He must not know how amusing he just found that.

“Not my fault your clothes are practically non-existent,” Obi-Wan retorts. It’s not his brightest moment, but he’s too flustered to come up with anything better.

“Well, this time it’s not like you’re wearing much more than me, aren’t you?”

He isn’t wrong.

It’s still better than what Maul’s wearing which, excluding a pair of ornate black pants - probably to cover his robotic legs -consists in mostly jewellery. If the situation were different, say Obi-Wan was trying to charm a foreigner representative, he would’ve commented on how impressively made his golden collar is, as well as how refined the earring string that goes from his ear to his horn looks, but this isn’t how things are, so Obi-Wan keeps his mouth shut.

What he says, actually, is this:

“You know, if I were you I would’ve picked another color for the mask. It doesn’t suit you.”

Maul scoffs, that scoff that indicates that he doesn’t care what he thinks, though he still seems pretty offended by that statement.

“And what would you know?”

More than you, Obi-Wan wants to reply, but for his own sanity he decides not to pick another fight and stays silent.

They’re still dancing and it feels weirdly intimate.

Obi-Wan has to do something or else he’ll be stuck here thinking about it.

Thankfully his mouth never runs out of things to say.

“I wouldn’t have guessed you knew how to dance, is this how you managed to get in?”

Maul snorts.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would, actually,” Obi-Wan replies, the cheeky little thing, “This will surely be fun to report. I can already picture the face the other Council members will make when I tell them.”

“And what makes you think that you’re getting out of here alive?”

Here’s the Maul Obi-Wan’s familiar with, the dangerous beast out for blood, his blood in particular. Still, he isn’t afraid.

Taking advantage of the distraction, he dips Maul; he’s tempted to let him drop on the ground, but that would only draw unwanted attention on them, something he would rather avoid, even though what he just did is meant to gain some attention, but that’s Obi-Wan for you, a pile of contradictions inside Jedi robes - or not since he’s not currently wearing those.

He leans closer, deliberately putting himself just a breath away from Maul. He knows it’s risky, but what can he do? He likes to flirt with danger, literally.

He basks in Maul’s flabbergasted expression, pretty smug about the fact that he managed to take him off guard. This is his revenge for the twirl from before.

“Oh, I believe I’ll be fine.”

Maul is going to strangle Kenobi right there right now, and he doesn’t care the impression such an act will give the guests.

How dares he to make a fool of him in such an ostentatious manner? Wasn’t the sting of defeat enough already?

He greets his teeth. If the fool wants a challenge, he’ll give it to him.

“We’ll see about that.”

He has felt his hated presence since he took his first step here. Curious that it wasn’t so the other way around as well. Kenobi must’ve been more out of his element than he was letting on.

He observed him, of course he did. He had already attended to his business by the time Kenobi got there, so he could lurk around without worrying about wasting precious time; he wasn’t going to abandon his plan of building himself an underground empire just because Kenobi was there, but why not have some fun at his expense?

He kept himself scarce, hiding his presence in the Force, waiting for the right moment, which came when the dances begun. The look on his idiotic face when he realized that it was Maul the one who was holding him was priceless.

No matter how things go, it’ll be worth it just for the pleasure of having taken Kenobi by surprise, even though of course Maul wouldn’t mind if it ended with Kenobi’s head in his hands. That would be good too, very much so actually.

Patience, Maul. He has to remember patience.

This planet may be neutral, but it still has a fair amount of Republic supporters that wouldn’t certainly take kindly to someone trying to kill a Jedi general.

Even with Savage on standby - he spared him the bore of a diplomatic party by making him wait in the ship - they’d still be outnumbered.

He’s waited so long for his revenge already. He’ll bide his time, he’ll see how things go. Maybe he’ll get his chance or maybe not, who knows.

He just has to wait, no matter how much he _hates_ it.

… What really he can’t understand is how he can feel less enraged now that he’s in such in close proximity with the subject of his hatred than how he’d normally be. What does it mean?

It must be this blasted slow dancing, it’s making his head feel dizzy.

Now that Kenobi pulled him up, he looks down at him - and he can’t hide the petty smugness at the fact that, thanks to Mother’s intervention, he’s taller than him - and he feels something, something that he can’t describe, something that he doesn’t recognize, something that he doesn’t know.

Yes, it must be the dancing.

Eventually a fight does erupt and things do begin to explode, but strangely enough nor Obi-Wan nor Maul have anything to do with it.

Apparently members of different factions have had a disagreement that they couldn’t resolve peacefully. Oh joy.

Of course Obi-Wan intervenes, which prompts Maul to do so as well, but of course he takes the side of the other faction than the one Obi-Wan chooses.

Now this, Obi-Wan thinks as he clashes lightsabers with Maul, is a dance he’s more familiar with.

Still, and Maul must have noticed it too, they’re both sluggish in their movements. To the untrained eye, nothing seems wrong, but Obi-Wan notices. The Force itself around him feels weird, out of balance, but not out of rage like that time, but out of… he doesn’t know.

In insight it’s good that Anakin isn’t there with him, or else he would’ve noticed and he wouldn’t have shut up about it for who knows how long, maybe forever.

He really shouldn’t have partaken in the dances.

“Tired, Kenobi?” Maul has the courage to say as they both try to break each other’s guard. As if Obi-Wan can’t see that he’s a mess just like him.

“Of you? Always,” he retorts, because he’d rather die than to let Maul have the last word.

Maul growls, pushing with more strength this time, effectively breaching trough Obi-Wan’s guard, but he’s fast enough to dodge his poorly timed strike in time.

They’re both so out of it.

All things considered… it went rather well.

The fight is over, but of course Maul managed to escape. One day Obi-Wan will catch him and will bring him to justice for what he’s done, but he supposes for now he has to focus on his primary objective - it’s not the Jedi way to allow personal feelings to get in the way of a mission, no matter how righteous these feelings are.

At least this scuffle assured the Republic the collaboration of many influential people of this planet, and Obi-Wan suspects that they’ll join the Republic shortly, so he can consider this venture a success.

Still, he can’t help but to feel a modicum of bittersweetness at the idea of having allowed Maul to run away.

Oh well, he’ll catch him another time. He doubts this is the last he’s seen of him, not when he’s so determined to exact his “revenge”.

Before he realizes what he’s doing and can stop himself, his hands go to his waist, caressing the bare skin. He can still feel the shadow of Maul’s touch, an imprint that, no matter how much he wants to wash away, he keeps even as he reports back to the Council via holo transmission and as he makes it back to the ship that will take him back to Coruscant.

He still finds himself in a confused emotional state, so he goes to the cockpit and tells the pilot not to disturb him unless there’s an emergency.

Maybe some meditation will help.

He touches his waist again.

He really hopes it does.


End file.
